Rapture
by SeyLoveless
Summary: I know this has been written about so many times but, A poetic look at Shuichi and Yuki's first time Shuichi's POV
1. Rapture

**Title**: Rapture

**Author**: Kirachii

**Disclaimer**: I don't own em' I just write about em'.

**Warnings**:

You

And Your

Obscene

Intentions

**Type**: Smut

**Jibber Jabber**: I don't remember why I thought about this. I believe I was watching the movie "Dangerous Beauty" and the way she acted towards her first time kind of inspired me. I'm still very much pure as the freshly fallen snow…so…if I get descriptions wrong…uh…sorry.

**Songs That Inspired This Fanficion**:

"Rapture" By Iio – "I'm mesmerized in every way. You keep me in a state of daze. Your kisses make my skin feel weak. I'm always melting in your heat. Then I saw like a bird in the wind. Oh I glide, as I'm flying through heaven……Rapture tastes so sweet."

I knew every inch of body, more so now, after I met Yuki, than ever before. Playing like my hand was his, how he loved the way my hip jutted out. How I could feel him staring at me with a frightening intensity. How he seemed to know exactly where to touch at exactly what time.

But it is entirely different when fantasy and fiction becomes reality and actuality, when you get a taste of someone burning with desire for only you. It can quickly become an addiction, a yearning, a force that's completely out of your grasp and control. An ego can become bigger than a person when you begin to dive into the depths of what fuels a person's sexual need. When you finally figure out it's the shape of your hips, the light in your eyes, the shadow your lip casts when it pouts, the smell of you skin, the sound of your voice, the curve in your waist, the color of your nipples. All these things are fuel to a fire that harbors inside of a person.

Knowing that you can cause someone to lose themselves, cause them to feel the closest thing to heaven in a world that's given them nothing but hell. Knowing that you can create an entirely different person with a few sensual movements, and cause them to loose control of themselves for only a few blissful seconds.

I had never experienced what someone else's skin felt like. I never knew that there was such a wide variety of textures. Some patches were hot and smooth, while others felt like the finest Chinese silk, every fiber tightly wound together so that it felt like liquid when it flowed across the skin of your palm. You never really notice the beauty of a human being until you are able to expose exactly who they are. You never really notice all of your body's flaws until you, in turn, are the one who is exposed. When you feel the air on your bare chest and your heart seems to be beating so quickly, trying to escape, as if the layer flesh is suffocating it. You notice the way your face burns almost with as much passion as the other persons need. You feel you skin flaring around your chest, and you're afraid your whole body will turn pink. You know that the other person can see your body's reactions; they can take in each involuntary action.

He becomes a different person. Asking me questions that make my ears burn from their acid lust. Millions of phrases circling my brain, telling myself how this is never what I wanted, but then again, when I think about it, who's phantom hand touched me in those places, what apparition told me he loved the way my body felt against his.

Unable to answer his questions, my eyes absorb my emotions; trying to speak to him with their blues and purples, trying to hold back the clear blood that swarmed behind them. The hushed sound of fabric brushing against fabric was never more apparent then in this situation.

The heat from his lips where scorching the thin layer of skin on mine, his breath on my cheek, his hand pushing on my chest silently commanding me to lay down, all seemed to be too much. The hard floor was stabbing into my back like a forgotten enemy, causing me to arch into him, causing me to mistakenly encourage his wandering hands.

The numb tug on my blue jean button causes my whole body to glow, the tiny hairs on my neck and arms to come to full attention, and my body to become rigid. My shoulders were straightening to the point of shattering, each tendon in my arm was stretching to the breaking point, and my deadened fists stood firm beside my hips.

His brazen hand slid up my unyielding arm. By that time my head was shaking weakly, trying to deny him, trying to tell him that this wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not here. Not on this floor. Not unwillingly.

I didn't know the process of this reprehensible act. I only knew the vague images that flowed through my head at my own time of need. It was all too real for me to stomach; the touch of a real hand, the heat of a real body, the moisture of real breath, the realism of someone's need.

His words were polished and slick, almost as if they were practiced. His coaxing was convincing and intoxicating. His assurance of little pain and guarantee of me being his one and only lover seemed to have taken their inebriated effect. This is what I wanted. I wanted his promises, his words, and his assurance. I didn't need his body. I didn't need the taste of his poisonous lips or the gentle shock of his hands on my skin. I didn't need the feel of his incredible, immoral hands on my naive flesh. All I needed were his words.

I felt the slight jutting feel of the teeth from my zipper being pried apart. My heart was pounding dangerously hard against my chest, slamming the blood into every vein in my body, making my skin flare, my senses heighten, and my pants become ever so slightly tighter.

It was then, at that moment, that I finally notice what was so amazing about this one man. I felt as though I was looking through the eyes of a devoted fan that had been blessed by the gods with a beauty stunning enough to catch Yuki's attention for the night; the way his bangs fall off of his forehead when he looks downward, the length of his eyelashes, and the perfect little dip that his upper lip makes when he smirks, the faultless 'v' that forms when his collarbones meet.

His shadow overwhelmed me, engulfed me, and made me feel as if I had disappeared. If only I could cling to that safety. If only the cotton in my mouth were not gluing my jaws shut. If only…

I did the only thing my brain would allow me to do; I slid my arms through his and held onto the back of his shirt. My grip, my determination, my hope that his shadow would make me evaporate was the only thing that gave me my strength at that very moment.

Fabric being parted from skin was a bitter alarm to me. My nerves, my pores, my mind, everything was screaming, everything was pleading with me to stop this, to stop this while I still can.

I took a deep, sharp breath that stung my lungs with a cutting awareness.

A hand cupping a quickly hardening flesh, a slick brush of silk skin against my neck, a humid breath warming my skin with its fervor.

A stifled gasp caught in between my lungs and throat; a maddening infatuation that was being fed. His breath was loud and ravenous. I feel the remnants of every kiss he placed on my overly sensitive skin. I could feel his hand begin to move. The electricity, the marvelous madness of it all. All of my strength was flowing out of me little by little, drop by drop. My hands dropped lifelessly onto the hardwood floor.

Is that my voice? It was so unfamiliar from the voice I heard muffled under my covers. This voice was someone completely different; this voice was shy yet determined, it flowed from what felt like my own lips out into the air and echoed off the walls. This voice felt like hot, transparent desire, running past my tongue, over my lips where it lingered for only a second. I didn't like this disgraceful sound to be heard by anyone's ears but my own. I forced the back of my hand to cover my mouth, but still the sound leaked through, pushing through the cracks in my skin, seeping out of my flesh.

I could feel it; the rising heat in my blood, the frenzied feeling of near redemption. My short fingernails where digging in the surface of the floor. The wood, unyielding, pushed my nails backwards, bending them, turning them inside out, as I was at this very moment. My mouth was opening and closing, gasping for air, the sound of my nails on the floor seemed to only encourage him more, but somewhere it the back of my mind I knew they were a plea, a plea for him to stop before I lose myself, before I become addicted to his expertise.

I body twitched inwardly and the bones in my hands stretched and contorted. The wave of euphoria, it seemed gentle at first, slow rippled movements, until a force pulls it up and it reaches to the tip top of its peak, all of the world stops for the shortest moment, until it comes down with a tremendously violent sound.

End of Chapter 1

Sorry…next in chapter two (last chapter) I can't think about sex anymore tonight XD.


	2. My Skin

**Title**: My Skin

**Author**: Sey (changed my pen name :D )

**Disclaimer**: I don't own em' I just write about em'.

**Warnings**:  
You  
And Your  
Obscene  
Intentions

**Type**: Smut

**Jibber Jabber**: I don't know if you can actually get "turned on" by my writing…hmm…its not really "sexy" its more… I dunno… emotional … descriptive? That may not be the right word but oh well.

I would also like to thank everyone who reviewed my story. Without you guys, I would have no reason to continue it.

I didn't really intend for this to be 3 chapters. But so much has happened (Katrina, no internet access) that I just decided to post what I had so far. I think I have a problem with tenses…I switched a lot in this chapter. Eh oh well.

**Songs That Inspired This Fanficion**:

"My Skin" By Natalie Merchant – "Take a look at my body. Look at my hands. There's so much here that I don't understand. Your face saving promises. Whispered like prayers. I don't need them... I've been treated so long, as if I'm becoming untouchable.

Well contempt loves the silence. It thrives in the dark. With fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart. They say that promises sweeten the blow, but I don't need them. No, I don't need them…I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, angel sweet love of my life. O, I need this. Do you remember the way that you touched me before? All the trembling sweetness I loved and adored.

Your face saving promises, whispered like prayers. O, I don't need them. I need the darkness, the sweetness, the sadness, the weakness. O, I need this. I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, angel sweet love of my life. O, I need this. Well is it dark enough? Can you see me? Do you want me? Can you reach me? O, I'm leaving.

Better shut your mouth and hold your breath, kiss me now and catch your death. O, I mean this."

I was laying there on the ground trying to soak up what was left of me, what was left of my wavering innocence. I did not receive any sweet nothings whispered into my ear. The only sound I received was the silent ringing that was bouncing off the walls, with my pounding heart joining in for an erratic duet.

I felt something slide across me, spreading a warm and wet liquid down my thigh. I could feel the fluid begin to dry against my skin. It wistfully reminded me of the way Yuki's kisses dried on my skin. I knew somewhat of what was supposed to happen, but I didn't know exactly how everything was going to take place. My body tensed again; countless times it has done that. My body was refusing his probing. My mind was refusing to enjoy this unfamiliar sensation. My muscles tightened around his finger, my stomach was beginning to wane. This isn't how it is supposed to feel. I'm supposed to be whimpering in pleasure, instead of silently crying in protest.

My voice was burning my throat. The rancid taste of choked air, the bitter stinging of a salty solution seemed to be the only ones who could transmit my pleading. Once again I dug my nails into the hard wooden floors, scratching at their panels, refusing as much as they were to give up my fight.

A second one surveyed into my body. My body lifted itself up off the ground, demanding that he stop his estrangement. His fingers were trying to tear my muscles apart. I continued to inform him this wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want his body; all I needed was his heart, or what was left of it. All I needed was his gentle kisses when I came home from being beaten down at NG. All I needed was the light smell of his cigarettes, cologne, and endorphins mixing into his shirt and surrounding me when I buried myself in it. I just needed him to hold me when I couldn't stand this world anymore, when I couldn't stand being away from him anymore. I only needed his everything. Was that too much to ask for?

He seemed to be ignoring me. I was trying to explain to him through the blazing feeling in my throat, and the cold blinding feeling of my tears, that his fingers were in to far. That his motions of opening and closing his fingers repeatedly were ripping at my insides. Yuki just tried to kiss me, to silence me, as I pushed on his chest.

Now that I look back on it, I was so selfish not to notice his horror, his feelings of helplessness. He wasn't kissing me to silence me, as I had thought on the cold ground of that dim apartment; it was the only thing he knew that I enjoyed. The only thing that I begged him to do to me was kiss me, never to touch my body.

Yes. Now that I look back on it, I can clearly remember the slight glint of horror in his eyes that the shadows disguised in the darkness. The way I screamed and pleaded must have brought back horrible images and memories for him. The way I struggled against his touch must have been a disgusting taste of nostalgia that left a bitter flavor in his mouth.

I could feel his warm moist lip capture my bottom one, his tongue gently petting at my lip, his teeth sometimes tugging at it. He was making the skin that covered it flare bright red. I could feel my pulse everywhere, as if I had thirty different hearts scattered throughout my insides.

My stomach was pulsating with the beat of my heart. My lips were being filled with blood to the brim. It amazing that I had even that much blood to spare. I wanted to graze my fingers across my lips. They felt unusually heavy. So heavy that I wasn't able to keep my mouth closed for very long. It gently hung open, my bottom lip acting as an anchor. I could feel my tiny pants past by them. They always seem to be so sensitive, even after just one tiny kiss. Do they want more contact? Or is it just simply the moisture drying on them?

I could feel the blood crashing into the tips on my fingers and shooting back up into my arms, running as fast as it could to keep me alive. Which at that moment, I didn't see the reason why it should even try. I didn't feel very much alive at all. Everything was hazy, and rather fuzzy. My skin was tingling slightly, as if every limb in my body was falling asleep. I wanted to do nothing but feel. Feel my skin, my lips, and my face. These new sensations intrigued my curiosity. I kept getting 'that feeling' in my stomach, and right afterwards goosebumps would attack my skin.

I could feel my pulse elsewhere also, but I was too embarrassed to even think about it.

Ah! He's was kissing my neck. Again I got that momentary feeling in my stomach. As if I was going one hundred and seventy miles an hour over a steep hill and down it again. Some people say it's your stomach dropping, but to me, it kind of feels as if it's just nuzzling into itself or curling into a ball like a cat would do. I stretch my shoulders downward and my head upwards, extending my neck. Am I trying to make more room for him to kiss, more skin for him to explore? Or is it just another relaxing reflex? Oh, here they come. Tiny numb prickles pushing up under my skin. They always make me feel as if I need to rub them to make them go away, or try and gently brush them back into my skin, but I didn't have any room on my own skin to do that. Yuki's hands were subconsciously doing it for me. His actions made me giggle slightly.

Oh no. I drew his attention away from my neck. The feeling in the pit of my stomach had changed. I wonder if I try and look seductive, will he start kissing me again? Oh gods I hope so.

I looked away slightly to my right. Making my eyes only stay half open. I really was kind of sleepy, or maybe I was a little anesthetized. I tried to make myself truly realize the situation so that I could blush more furiously than I already was, but that might not be such a good idea. I might pass out from the lack of blood flowing through my body. I already feel slightly lightheaded. I slid my thumb across my lower lip to try and cause any sort of attention to it. Was it working? Was he staring at me and silently telling me to move my thumb? I didn't want to look at him.

I heard the familiar sound of metallic teeth being pried apart, and I knew what was to come next.

"The quicker I get it in, the less it will hurt, right?"

No! No! Wait! That's not what my look was supposed to be telling you to do! Was it too seductive? Or was he turned off by the look? Did it look like I was trying to hard? I bet I looked like a complete idiot. Shit. Now how am I supposed to be cute after that little stunt? I can only imagine what he was thinking. 'Jesus you brat, stop trying to act like you're experienced. You look dense when you're making that face, like you're a little slow in the head. Maybe if I get this done and over with as quickly as possible I won't have to feel embarrassed for you anymore.'

I can just imagine it.

My body went into minute convulsions, spasms if you will, picking itself up off the ground only to knock itself back down with just as much force. My voice was cracking, breaking, pleading, and begging. My body was trying to rip his grip off of it. His face was contorted with confusion, anger, or was it dismay? His fingers digging into the pale flesh that wrapped around my arms. My hips were pushing against the ground, pushing my body away from his. He yelled for me to calm down. He yelled at me to stop. His ambers eyes were frantically dancing around my face, my body, not knowing what to do, or what do say.

Then he kissed me. Finally, that was what I wanted. My body's convulsions were brought to a minimum. Whenever I would meekly jerk away, his grip would catch me. I made a slight noise against his mouth. Adrenaline replaced my blood. I had not a drop left in me. I was running on a pure rush. What would I have done if I had actually gotten away from him? Would I have really been able to run outside, bare as the day I was born. Would I have really been able to run home, and explain to mother, to sister, to father, that I had almost been raped by a beautiful man who had an infamous reputation for being a skirt chaser. Could I run to Hiro's house which was countless miles away from this apartment? Would I have ever been able to come back to this place to face him?

I felt something press against my entrance, and subconsciously, Yuki's grip tightened around me once more. His breath was heavy against my cheek as his tongue taunted mine. I could feel the flaring, burning sensation of my skin under his hands, and I could feel the smoldering wave of his heat that ricocheted off of my skin.

He entered me, and my innocence was no more.

The raw feeling, the raw sensation, made my stomach turn inside out. He clenched his fingers even more tightly around my bruising flesh and hissed inwardly as his shoulders caved slightly inward. His lips were pursed together with such force that the blood had seemed to drain from their surface only to reveal the beautiful color of his skin. I could feel his abdomen tighten and slightly uncoil. I noticed the tense definition in his jaw from his teeth being clinched together.

His beauty astounded me. The pain caused an even greater, if possible, adrenaline surge throughout my body. Maybe it was drugging me. Maybe it was causing me to not be myself. The way his shoulders heaved up and down. The bone that jutted out from where his collar bone seemed to meet it's end was begging to be licked, or nibbled.

The muscles in his arms slightly straining, holding up his up body; I want to cling to him. I want my skin to touch his. I want to breathe the same rhythm as him. I want to see how my lips feel against the dip in his neck as I hold onto him. I want to immortalize him, to preserve this image, this man, this love.

I only heard him murmur something about 'tightness' as I was being split apart. I blinked almost feeling a loathing sensation come over me as I relived what my mind, this man's body, was making me do and think, but another part of me liked it. I hated that part of me at this moment. There was too much friction, to much frantic movement. Yuki grabbed the crook of my leg and lifted it dangerously high. A constricting feeling shot through my thigh and hip, it seemed to be ripping apart each tendon as it traveled its way through my muscle. I jerked and contorted until Yuki lowered my leg.

I tried to calm myself, I tried to breathe, and I tried not to think about the pain that was triggering every nerve in my body to panic.

I felt him press up against something inside of me, and all of a sudden Yuki's movements became smoother, less forced. It strained out a sudden moan in me. I gripped onto him. If anyone, but for the love of the gods I hope not, was watching us, they would've seen me as a pitiful human being; an almost full grown man clinging to another in such a deplorable fashion.

I tried to match my breathing with his, as I had wanted, but it was impossible. My heart was taking up too much space in my chest; getting larger with every beat, compressing my lungs, dying to escape. My whole body was shaking. I was creating scattered air against Yuki's shoulder.

"Breathe Shuichi. Don't think. Just feel me; my body." His voice was deeper. Something in it seemed overwrought and lost. If I was to speak would my voice sound like that? I was too afraid to find out. I don't know if his words helped or harmed the situation.

It caused goosebumps to flare against my skin again. Spreading from my upper arms and sending an electric shock straight down my back that ended and nestled into the base of my spine. Was it his words, the way he said it in "that tone", or was it both? I tried to do what he told me to. I swallow a harsh feeling in my throat, unwilling to go down to my unsettled stomach without a battle.

I felt his skin and bone mix together against mine. His hip bone was digging into me. I felt the pads of his ever-to gentle fingers sliding along my sides which made the goosebumps retaliate against his hands. My head fell back, my neck stretched backwards, and my voice failed me. It passed through my throat. It was hot and light, exactly like Yuki's body heat that was floating atop my skin. One of my hands automatically fled for my mouth, but Yuki pulled it away.

"No. You're supposed to do that. It's a good thing."

No. That voice. It seemed to flow through the lust he felt. I fidgeted gently under his body, which only successfully rubbed his smooth skin against mine, creating more friction and heat. Was I trying to run away from that voice? The only thing I knew was that it was sending volts of stimulating electricity throughout my entire body, and it scared me. I've never entirely lost myself, and the thought of doing so, loosing every unadulterated inhibition, frightened me.

"Do you want me to do it too? I can say your name if you'd like. Do you want me to be someone else, maybe someone from my books?"

I almost cringed away from his voice, but something inside me told me not to show it on my face. It told me to try as best as I could to keep eye contact with him.

My poor, poor Yuki, what had his disgraceful fan girls done to him? Did they want him to be their dream man, their wildest fantasy?

"No." I whispered against the upper part of his chest, holding onto him for dear life, afraid that these words might take my own. "Just be you. Yuki Eiri, just be him." My voice didn't come out like his. It had a little bit of a higher pitch to it, a helpless pitch, or was it hopeful?

I felt something pause in Yuki. I felt something in him hesitate. His breathe hitched. This scared me more than my incapability to control my body. The silence in the room made me shake even harder. I wanted to cry. I disliked not being able to stop the trimmers, and the more I focused on them to try and stop them, the more violently I shook.

"Yuki?" I lay back down on the ground. My face contorted at the pain I felt as the light wood pushed harshly against my spine. He began moving again. I blinked. I swallowed. I breathed. I blinked a hundred times more. I don't understand. His breath was getting quicker and his muscles were getting visibly tighter.

Ow! He thrusted harshly into me and against me. Ow. His pressure was hurting me. "Ow!" I was finally able to say it out loud. "Ow." I said quietly, more vulnerably than before. I shut my eyes and in an instant I felt something inside of me; something warm that seemed to spread out inside my body like an infection. I opened my eyes to see Yuki panting slightly. His faced was flushed.

Wow. He was incredibly… incredibly cute? Or is it handsome? It was a light pink that matched perfectly with his light skin. I want to laugh slightly, but I choose not to. It would be a rather inappropriate moment to. Even if I did, it would've been a nervous laugh. Yeah, a nervous inappropriate laugh; just like the ones you accidentally do at funerals.

I quickly and apprehensively laugh. Shit. I did it. Let's see how many times I can look like a complete moron tonight. My eyes set onto a patch of skin on his chest. Was this it? I've heard people say 'It's not like it seems in the movies. It's not like that at all.' But, was it really like this? My 'excitement' had died. I was thinking too much again.

He pulled out of me. I'm sure a made a face. I didn't like that feeling. It made me feel rather empty, but not in a literal sense. "Come on." Yuki kneeled beside me and used the crook of his arms to lift me up off the ground. Thank goodness he had answered my other question; was I supposed to lie on the floor all night. "I…I can walk." I said meekly. Not actually sure that I could.

"Trust me. You can't" How could he tread around like that? Didn't he have any shame?

"And you'll get stuff on my floor." It took me a few moments to realize what he was talking about. When I finally did I could feel my eyes widened to the brink and a blush tinge my cheeks.


	3. Glory

Title: Glory

Author: Sey

Warnings:  
You  
And Your  
Obscene  
Intentions

Type: Smut

Jibber Jabber: I have no songs that remind me of this fanfiction because I have dial up now and can't go off downloading anything and everything. So, yeah. :D Oh and I would like to thank absolutely everyone who comment and wanted me to actually finish this story, cause I am ABSOLUTLY horrible at finishing stories, so… seriously… its thanks to you guys this thing has an ending.

He finally had crept through the dark hallway and made it to a door. When he opened it a smell assaulted my nose. It was a clean smell; A cold smell. This room felt as if it wasn't used very often.

He set me down on the bed. I didn't know what to do. Was I supposed to lie down and spread my legs? Was I supposed to go to sleep? Was I supposed to read him a story? What the hell was I supposed to do? I looked up at him to try and get an answer from his expressions; Trying to find a reply in the glint in his eyes, the color of his cheeks. I saw his hand move towards me and I tensed up. It stopped in midair.

I closed my eyes and breathed a slow breath. I could feel my lungs pushing back against my heart, stretching each fiber. Before I could open my eyes back up I felt skin on my face. Was that a hand? I subconsciously leaned into it. I was so sleepy, so worn out. There were too many emotions running through me. My tiny little body can't hold all of them in. I felt like a machine that was given too many commands at once. I didn't know what to do, what to feel. I just stop and froze. His thumb was skimmed across my cheek. I sighed at the way our body's heat seemed to match one another's. It's coming back, the fuzzy feeling. I smiled; it pushed my cheek against his thumb.

My smile must have distracted him because his finger traveled from my cheek to my mouth. I breathed against his finger, not understanding its purpose was on my swollen red flesh. It pushed itself into the inside of my lip, to the darker crimsons. I licked at the tip of it and it seemed bitter and salty and hot. He was feeling the glossy skin that lay on the inside of my mouth just before my teeth, running his fingers along the silk lining. I wanted to swallow, but to do that would take too much brain power.

I wanted this to continue, but I was getting shot with electric pain up and down my spine. I took my eyes away from his hand and looked up at his face. Nothing. His eyes were dead locked gold, and were intent on boring holes into every inch of my exterior. I didn't like the edge of the bed. My ankles felt very vulnerable exposed to the vastness that lay under that bed. Pushing myself farther back, wrinkling the sheets along my way towards the middle, I gave a subconcious hint for him to follow, and he did. I let my eyes quickly jet from side to side without looking at his face. I couldn't help but smile. I hate my nervous smiles.

"Lay back." I did so a little more obediently than I would like to admit. He lay on his side with his elbow crooked and his hand hidden at the base of his neck somewhere for support. His free hand began to travel towards the side of my face. His middle finger was playing with the skin that lay behind my ear lobe. It cause a small vibration inside of me and I could feel it begin reverberate from my core. I shook sort of suddenly, it caused by lungs to contract and a tiny pant to escape. Yuki smirked. I would come to love that smirk, at the time it drove me mad. I had never seen it before that night. It was always a sneer or a mocking smile. But that smirk, the way his skin lightly folded at one side of his mouth. The way his breathed out an amused breath through his nose, that breath that danced along the skin on my arm. This was nice. I liked this.

I just stared at my arm where his breath had graced the tiny, invisible hairs that decorated it.

Yuki noticed my sudden loss of interest in his actions.

"Stop thinking." He plainly replied. Stop thinking? Stop thinking? How the hell was I supposed to stop thinking? I tried to think of the color black. Black always represented nothingness. Black always seemed to be blank. That didn't help though. I just continued to think about how black seemed to clear my mind.

But another thought passed through the darkness. I did not get to see Yuki face. I was too afraid to see what he looked like in his most vulnerable moment. My very first time, with my very first love, and my very first everything. I missed that one crucial thing. I tried to imagine what he looked like. Were his eyes open or closed? Was his teeth clenched or gently parted? Were his muscles contracting as roughly as mine did? I can barely remember the sound of strain in his voice.

He brushed his lips against the pulse in my neck. I could feel my adrenaline and endorphins follow his lips up and down my neck as if they were playing tag. I wanted to shy away from that., but I could feel his hand dance along my right side and that distracted me even more. As it made it's way down, it placed itself upon my hip bone. One of his fingers dancing alone along the inside of the curve it made. It slid down to the softest part of my thigh where he made continuous circles with four of his digits. This caused my stomach to tighten and my breath to become slightly more frantic. I tried to key in on the whisper of my pulse in my ears.

The four digits that were encircling my flesh on my thigh lifted up my right leg and placed it on the possessors shoulder. I could feel a bone pushing at my skin, right above the hollow pocket on the back of my knee. I looked up at him and winced slightly. When he noticed my obvious discomfort towards this situation he tried to move it over to the rounded part on his shoulder and rubbed the thigh of my angled leg. He lightly ran his nails along it's tender underside. The muscle just below the side of my hip contracted and I sucked the cold, stale air around me in through lightly parted teeth.

I got the urge again to touch him. I placed the tips of my middle fingers behind his ear lobes, mimicking what he had done to me earlier. I slid my hands slowly down his neck and began to finger his collar bone, scratching it as he did to my thigh. I was fascinated with it. The way the light illuminated it and the way that shadows gave it dept. All this exploring was mind racking. I felt almost lost, not knowing what I was supposed to do. I don't want to stop touching him because things will become awkward, or more awkward than they already seem to be. But if I keep doing this, and he doesn't like it, that will be even more humiliating.

I do think too much.

His breath became slower, deeper, as if he was pacing himself. His breath caught my eyes attention to the shadowed flesh on his chest. I nervously and apprehensively trailed my hands along it, and idly occupied myself with a tiny portion of pink flesh. I wondered if it feels as electrifying for him as it does for me. I wondered if it makes the sides of his neck tingle like it does mine. I wondered if he can feel my breath on his skin too. Is it as cold as his was against my intensely hot skin? My eyelashes were tickling the skin below my slightly knitted brows as my eyes danced around his body wondering these questions.

I really really think too much.

"Is it okay to…?" he asked as his hand barred my legs from moving. I felt a cold frisson start at the top of my arms and flush downwards. Why was he holding onto me so tightly? Did he think I was going to have another fit like before? Am I going to have another fit like before? Everything was so still. I could still feel the echoed tremors inside of me but I tried everything I could to subdue them, but the quietness of our surroundings seemed to make me notice them more and make them almost unbearable to manage. I could feel my lower jaw begin to shake, but I bit onto my lip before it had the power to resonate through my whole body.

I made some nonsense noise that sounded slightly encouraging. Yuki pulled my body further downwards so that he could be leaning over me more. He placed his left arm close to the right side of my head. I gripped onto his wrist for reassurance that if things became too much for me to handle I could just constrict it until there was no blood circulating through his arm and he would be forced to stop if he cherished that limb. I tried to breathe my last breaths of poised air. I readjusted my grip onto his wrist and looked up through my bangs with my lip still clamped firmly between my teeth and nodded only the slightest bit.

He swallowed stridently and filled his lung with air. I wish he wouldn't have done that. The wait was making me feel sick. The more time I had to sit here and watch him, the more time I had to change my mind. But I wasn't going to do that. I couldn't do that to him. Not after what I had just put him through only a few minutes ago. I needed this to be perfect. I needed this to be our first, true time.

I tried to pretend that what happened before really didn't. That it was only a dream. That the way things were going now, so smoothly and fluidly, were how they were supposed to go.

He entered me more slowly this time, knowing that it would be easier for both of us this way. Finally understanding that his senses wouldn't be butchered by my lack of usage and tension, and knowing that it would be easier for me to accept him if he took things a little slower than normally. His frivolous activities with hundreds of girls were an obvious disadvantage to me the first time. I kneaded at his wrist with my hand, clenching gently and letting go, clenching, and letting go. It felt implausibly fulfilling. I pulled my chest and shoulder upwards to breath, stretching my waist out in a relaxing motion, and filling my lungs to the brim with air. I couldn't stop swallowing. After a while it felt as if I was trying to swallow my tounge. This had to be the birth of a new nervous reaction.

He pushed upwards a little more to gauge me. I released a scattered gasp almost silently in amazement. I felt like my whole body was absorbing every feat to live.

He began to move as slowly as his body would allow him. I could feel his legs shaking slightly from the strain that he was applying to them. I wanted to tell him he could go faster if half of my brain would've connect from inside my skull to my groin and form actual words to make sentences, but I didn't see any use in saying too much right now since I knew that we were going to get there sooner or later. Why rush things? We have the rest of our lives now.

Who needs eating and sleeping when you can live off the high of hormones and endorphins? My hand had now let go of his wrist and was hazily scratching at his arm. My other hand was doing the exact same thing in time, but to the sheets. I would close my fist and grab a handful of fabric, I don't think my brain understood that you couldn't do that with flesh, not to say I didn't try.

He paused. "Are you okay?" He said in a more hurried tone than concerned. I nodded again. Staring at him and the rose tint that colored his pale face, and noticing how his lips stayed their light pink color instead of my rude red. Damn you words, out of all times to abandon me. You usually fumble out of my mouth so easily, but now you've all hidden away inside of me. Thinking, somewhat, of that, I remember what else was inside of me. It caused a minuscule implosion inside of me that made me tense up even more and whimper. I was beginning to get light headed from breathing in so much oxygen, and it didn't help me when Yuki began to go faster, his hips meeting with me everytime we connected together.

His new pace was causing my body to become mad. My fingernails were scratching and the sheets with the echo of a ripping sound. I rolled my head sideways and tried as best as I could to moan into the pillow, but my coordination was off balance as well and ended up being far too loud for the thin walled apartment.

I went back to biting my lip again trying to stop the constricting in my throat. It seemed that every time I breathed outward my breath held and carried some kind of tune and I couldn't stop it. Finally, giving up on drawing blood from my lip in order to save the neighbors moments of awkwardness, I let it go and began to dully, but roughly, chew on the inside of that very same bottom lip all the while my hands still trying frantically to find something to do during this whole ordeal.

I looked up at Yuki who was opening his eyes now and then. I guess he was snapping mental photographs of me and closing his eyes back and focusing on the stilled image of whatever frenzied moment I was in. The only words that were beginning to come out of hiding were probably the most beautiful that ever formed on my lips.

"Yuki…" I didn't understand why I was called out to him. I was calling out to him to go faster, to slow down, and to give me some of his sanity and composure so that I can make it through this onslaught of all my sensations. Maybe I was calling out for him so that I could find him through this haze. Maybe I was calling out to him so that he would get lost in his own haze, and it seemed to work.

His eyes opened back up and he made the most minute, deep noise in the back of his throat. That must be his way of calling back to me telling me he was still here. He was waiting to catch me when I plummet back towards uncertainty. I said his name again and this time the sound of my voice seemed to elicit something inside of me that told me to brace myself for whatever was to come.

My breath quickened so much that I was riding off of the oxygen buzz. I couldn't control how many times I was saying Yuki's name. I think I was trying to remind him of who he was because I was surely forgetting who I was at this moment in time. I also was able to form the word 'I'. I had almost made a sentence. Almost.

"Yuki I…" the sheets were all beginning to gather up in my hands.

"I..!" His pace was deafening and not helping my situation at all. I felt a tear leak out the side of my eye. I had to let some form of liquid out before I drowned internally.

"Yuki…" my echoes of remembrance were becoming pleas for my already fading sanity.

"Can't…!"

I inhaled sharply and I felt as if my lungs had exploded. I pulled my left shoulder blade up towards my head and clamped onto my bottom lip, but it was torn away in my moment of declaration. I felt all the words finally explode back into my body from the corners they had been hiding in. I felt the detonation of every tint wash away my grey haze. I felt the oxygen high become a mere nothing compared the blood that was circulating inside of me, flowing as quickly as possible through my constricted blood vessels. My toes were curling inward and the leg on Yuki's shoulder contracted to nothing but mere muscle.

I let out a few exasperated moans when Yuki was still moving inside of me. I couldn't do this any longer. I can't do this anymore. I held down against Yuki in a final attempt to save us both. It seemed to work as he wrenched forward and grabbed a hold of my ankle and tried his best to stifle his groan.

His black eyelashes shaded his closed eyes and left shadows below. I could see the blood splash into his face and his lips turn the lightest shade of rouge. His teeth were clenched with his bottom pressing against his top, making those little 'joints' where his jaws meet pop out again. This is it; the most vulnerable moment of this man. He trusts me enough to put down his guard and share the only moment of pure ecstasy that can ever be shared between two humans.

This is the beginning of us.


End file.
